


arrayed

by Bright_Elen



Series: war footing [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (for Cassian and Din), Angst, Angst and Porn, Armor Kink, Begging, Bondage, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub, Emotionally Repressed, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Jealousy, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Marking, POV Cassian Andor, POV K-2SO, Porn with Feelings, Under-negotiated Kink, Vibrators, non-sexy asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen
Summary: Though his encounters with armored strangers take the edge off, nothing fully satisfies Cassian's appetite. When the Mandalorian finds him again, he's not hoping for anything more than a night of reprieve.Then Kay barges in and makes his feelings on Cassian's risk-taking very clear.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Din Djarin, Cassian Andor/K-2SO
Series: war footing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918522
Comments: 30
Kudos: 55





	arrayed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robotboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotboy/gifts).



> Thank you [robotboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotboy) for being such a great sounding board and inspiration! I hope you enjoy this!

It only took four days after the first encounter with the Mandalorian for Cassian to start itching for another. He took the edge off with a Pathfinder, and a week after that, a mark on Corellia. After several weeks, he'd racked up three additional partners and very little satisfaction. 

To make matters worse, Kay refused to mind his own business. First it was the excruciating cross-examination at the first discovery; then the critical looks and judgemental snorts whenever he found evidence of Cassian's hook-ups.

Cassian shouldn't have cared. He could weather plenty of K-2's disapproval when it came to missions or self care. There was no reason every second of personal distaste should have grated on Cassian's nerves in this particular instance.

It didn't matter. He shoved his irritation and lust both down alongside so much else that bothered him, and did his job. When the opportunity arose, he blew off steam. In most other ways, he and K-2 got along. It was a pattern Cassian was prepared to maintain.

At least, it was until he ran into the Mandalorian again on Nal Koska.

This time, the Mandalorian approached Cassian. He had the same well-used armor, the same coiled power in his walk, the same deadly weapons. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

Cassian smiled, genuine. "Me neither. Small galaxy, huh?"

The Mandalorian snorted. 

Cassian nudged the rickety chair next to him with a toe. "Clocked out for the day?" 

The Mandalorian hesitated a moment, then sat. 

Cassian chatted about pod racing while the Mandalorian had his single drink (different liquor, same poison test). Then he made a show of looking Cassian over. 

"I have a room."

Cassian smiled. "Show me." 

As the Mandalorian rose, cape swirling around him, Cassian's eyes caught on the binders at his belt, and his heart started to race.

He commed Kay on the way to the hotel.

After the now-familiar sweep of the room and addition of Cassian's lock, the Mandalorian stepped close, gloved hands skimming Cassian's shoulders and back. "Armor on again?"

Cassian nodded, licking his lips. 

The Mandalorian hummed in approval. He put his rifle down beside the bed, then removed his cape. 

Cassian's let himself drink in the Mandalorian's silhouette: the smooth curves of the helmet and pauldrons; the hard lines of chest plate, cuisses, and vambraces; the bulk of it, the way the edges bit into the space around it. 

And still, his eyes came to rest on the binders. 

"Hmm," the Mandalorian said, stepping in close to Cassian. "Armor on me, binders on you?"

Cassian put one hand on the Mandalorian's shoulder and one on his waist, and pulled himself closer until they were pressed together, the armor sending thrills through him even with his clothes on. "I like that plan." 

The Mandalorian pulled Cassian's shirt up and over his head, tossing it onto the dusty chair in the corner. Cassian traced the gouges and dings in the armor with his fingers and eyes alike, drinking them in before whatever the Mandalorian had planned.

The Mandalorian unclipped the binders from his belt and handed them to Cassian. "Similar to your lock," he said. "There's a control here." He hit a button at his wrist, and the binders snapped closed in Cassian's hand. Another tap, and they opened. 

_ This is your worst idea yet,  _ the voice in Cassian's head butted in. 

Shoving it back, Cassian gave the binders back to the Mandalorian, then held out his wrists. The cool metal closing snug around him and the click of the mag seal sent fire through Cassian's veins. 

"You like that," the Mandalorian said, almost a purr. It wasn't a question. 

"So do you." Cassian smirked. 

The Mandalorian put his hands on Cassian's hips and walked him into the wall. Then he hauled Cassian's hands over his head and grabbed his jaw with the other hand.

Cassian sucked in a breath, heart hammering at the danger of his position, and even more at the feel of the metal circling his wrists. The Mandalorian dragged fingertips down Cassian's jaw, down his throat, down the line of his sternum. By the time his hand was on Cassian's belt, Cassian was breathing fast and fully hard. 

The Mandalorian pushed his hips forward, the small plate of armor under his belt pressing against Cassian's cock. Cassian whined at the smooth, unyielding pressure, eyes rolling back, and thrust against it.

"Eager," the Mandalorian said, the hint of a laugh in his voice. He stepped back to turn Cassian around until his face and chest were against the wall, shoulders burning at the stretch.

Then the Mandalorian was at his back, armor against Cassian from the edge of the helmet on his shoulder all the way down to the cuisses against the backs of his thighs. 

It was kriffing perfect. Cassian groaned, pushing back against the metal, impatient for the Mandalorian to get his trousers off. 

The Mandalorian dragged one hand down Cassian's chest, pushed a thigh between his legs, and Cassian's head rolled back against the Mandalorian's shoulder, moaning at the feel of so much metal against his body.

Then the door swished open. After a momentary burst of terror, Cassian felt embarrassment and anger. 

"Kay?! What are you— get out of here!" He couldn't believe it. Even as part of him thought he should have expected it, he couldn't believe it. 

The Mandalorian let go of the binders. Cassian felt more than saw him reach for his blaster and he realized what was about to happen.

Moving faster than he'd thought he could, Cassian whirled around, grabbed the blaster from the Mandalorian's hand, kicked his knee from behind, and hooked his bound arms around his neck. In less than a second, he had him in a headlock with the muzzle of his own blaster under his chin. 

The Mandalorian froze. 

"I'm sorry," Cassian said. "I can't let you shoot him."

"Imp," the Mandalorian hissed. 

"No," Kay said, moving closer. "He isn't, but that's none of your concern." He briefly trained his glare at the binders; as if they were afraid of him, the manacles separated.

Cassian rearranged his grip on the Mandalorian so that he could put pressure on his carotid arteries. The Mandalorian struggled, but the blaster kept him from any truly effective moves, and soon he went limp in Cassian's arms. 

Cassian stepped from behind him with the blaster at the ready in case it was a feint.

It wasn't. The Mandalorian dropped to the floor.

Cassian let out a huff of air, watching just long enough to see the Mandalorian's chest rising and falling. Then he threw his jacket on, snatched up his shirt, and grabbed the lock.

After engaging the safety, he tossed the blaster onto the bed and strode from the room. As soon as Kay was out too, he closed and locked the door again, sparing a second to glare at Kay for the state of the console. 

Then they were outside again, Cassian occasionally checking over his shoulder as Kay led them through the city. 

"This had better be important." 

* * *

K-2 had been correct in his predictions: Cassian agreed that the meeting was a good opportunity. He was also still angry.

"You couldn't have waited ninety minutes?"

"The chances of success decreased with time, and I've been stuck in the safe house for days." 

"Unbelievable," Cassian said, and stalked the remaining distance to the safehouse. 

K-2 rolled his optics, but Cassian didn't see. Pity.

Once they were both inside, K-2 locked the door and engaged the security system. Cassian double checked it, as well as scanning outside the window before closing the shutters. 

Though he'd achieved his initial objective — separating Cassian from the stranger — K-2 was still seething. His files of the Mandalorian's hands on Cassian, of Cassian's body arched into theirs, of Cassian's moan—

He couldn't stop playing them.

The least he could do was reassure himself Cassian was unhurt. He rounded on Cassian and began patting him down for injuries.

"I'm  _ fine, _ " Cassian growled. 

"Your injury self-assessments have an accuracy rate of only sixty-eight percent. Forgive me if I feel the need to gather my own data." 

Cassian huffed and glared but didn't argue further. 

"It's reckless even for you to make yourself that vulnerable to a stranger," he said, palming Cassian's shoulders and ribs. 

Instead of a retort, Cassian just pursed his lips. K-2 wasn't sure if that was chagrined agreement or just an unwillingness to discuss it.

As K-2 checked each of his bones, Cassian's warmth reached K-2's sensors, even through clothing, and the faint heat slowed the rogue processes in K-2's circuits. "Even if they didn't mean you harm, they're not careful enough." 

"No one's careful enough for you," Cassian muttered.

K-2 clicked in disapproval. "That doesn't mean I'm wrong." 

Cassian sighed. 

"They don't know what they're doing." K-2 kept going, his pressure sensors measuring the densities of skin, muscle, and bone. Their correspondence to healthy parameters calmed him further. "They could easily touch one of your painful scars or manhandle one of your injured joints." K-2 illustrated the point by carefully navigating the knee Cassian had wrenched the month prior. 

Through it all, the aural sensors in his fingertips were logging Cassian's heartbeat. It was too fast for a rest state, but there were numerous explanations for that: stress, anger, residual arousal. 

K-2 ended the inspection by running his hands up Cassian's neck, fingers nestling under his jaw, one palm curling around the back of his skull. 

"But even if they were careful enough, I still wouldn't like it when other people handle you."

Cassian's heart rate jumped, as did his respiration, though he was fighting to keep it regular. K-2 started to consider the possibility that he was arousing Cassian. He tried to check Cassian's pupil dilation, but he wouldn't meet K-2's optics. 

The slight bulge in his trousers suggested he didn't need to.

K-2 could ask. Dozens of processes insisted that he ask; gathering information was an essential part of K-2, and Cassian's consent was of paramount importance.

But Cassian had reacted poorly to K-2's earlier questions regarding his sexuality. And there were other ways to communicate and obtain consent.

K-2 made a decision.

"I'm going to inspect you for bruising," he announced, hands paused on the jacket's fastenings.

Cassian's breath hitched. He swallowed. Still he refused to look at K-2. 

He didn't step back or tell K-2 to stop. He didn't even snap an indirect order. 

All signs pointed to Cassian wanting this.

After ten full seconds had passed without Cassian making any move to stop him, K-2 opened the jacket and pulled it off of Cassian's shoulders. As he peeled the fabric away his fingertips grazed Cassian's bare skin, picking up trails of softness and warmth that wove into K-2's circuits and bound him to Cassian like cargo webbing.

Cassian shivered and let the jacket fall to the floor. Now it was even more obvious that he was still wearing the manacles, but he acted as if they weren't there. 

K-2 brushed his hands over Cassian's chest, then stepped around him to trace his spine, relishing the involuntary movement of the muscles in Cassian's back. "Completely free of bruising. Remarkable, compared to your historical average." 

Cassian let out a rush of air that was half laughter and half sigh. "You...haven't checked everywhere."

K-2's fans picked up speed. He'd been correct. And not only did Cassian want this; he was actively encouraging it.

"True," K-2 said, perhaps a bit too cheerful for their façade, but he doubted Cassian expected good role play from him. 

K-2 stepped closely enough to reach around Cassian to put both hands on his belt. Cassian swayed slightly in the circle of his arms, eyes closing, teeth digging into his lip. The sight sent a pulse through K-2's reward matrix. 

K-2 opened Cassian's belt and trousers. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled everything down Cassian's legs, careful to avoid pulling at his erection. Cassian leaned back against K-2's shoulders to stabilize himself as he stepped out of the clothes.

K-2 couldn't feel it, but he liked it nonetheless. 

When Cassian was stable again, K-2 remained kneeling, hands skimming down Cassian's flanks. Cassian's skin tightened into goosebumps in the wake of K-2's fingers, a corresponding possessive thrill flashing through K-2's circuits. 

Before he could get caught up in that single phenomenon, he stood and circled back to stand in front of Cassian. "No bruising at all," he pronounced. Then, thinking about the manacles and the first set of bruises he'd noticed, K-2 added, "Shall I give you some?"

Cassian made a choked sound, his cock twitched and leaked, and he finally looked at K-2.

His pupils were 16% wider than their previous record for similar lighting conditions, and his expression was a blend of longing and guilt. "You don't have to," he managed. "It's not— I don't need this."

"I know." It warmed K-2 that Cassian was concerned about his consent. "Have I ever offered something I didn't want?"

Cassian blinked. Shook his head. 

"Good. Now, I'm presuming from your lack of mentioning them that you want to keep these on," he said, touching the manacles at Cassian's wrists.

Cassian's chin gave a single, affirmative jerk.

"Excellent." There were several possible ways K-2 could begin, but he decided that a variant on what the Mandalorian had been doing would be the most satisfying.

He took Cassian's hands, turned him around, and stood close behind him. Then pulled Cassian's arms up until the backs of his hands were on K-2's chest plate bracketing his neck well. 

Then, making sure the binders' maglock side was against his plating, he wirelessly activated them. Cassian's wrists snapped onto K-2 with two metallic thunks.

"Oh kriff," Cassian breathed. He tugged slightly on the binders, maybe to test the maglock, maybe just to feel how securely he was held. 

The binders didn't move. Cassian leaned into K-2 with chest heaving and head tilted up and back.

K-2 liked that very much.

He shifted his weight, bending his legs slightly, and slid one knee between Cassian's legs. Taking Cassian's hips in both hands, he pulled him closer, until part of his weight was on K-2's upper thigh. 

"I deduced your general sexual preferences several weeks ago, and I presume your current arousal is due to the similarity of my plating to armor," K-2 said. "However, I am going to ensure that, for the remainder of this evening, you won't be thinking about organics in armor."

"Stars," Cassian said, voice low and rough. It sped up K-2's processes, especially the ones involved in his reward matrix. 

"I'm going to bruise you," K-2 continued, "because you enjoy it and because I want to see evidence of my hands on your skin." 

K-2 enjoyed the way Cassian's knees wobbled at that, as well as the way his breath shuddered. 

Organics were clumsy, unable to control how much force, and thus bruising, they inflicted. Not so droids. K-2 adjusted the placement of his hands just under Cassian's iliac crests and exerted exactly enough pressure to break the smallest capillaries in the skin under his fingertips.

Cassian bit his lip around a half-swallowed moan and bucked against K-2. That was highly satisfactory.

"I am likewise going to bring you to orgasm," K-2 continued. "I'm going to do both of those better than any organic ever could."

Cassian whined in the back of his throat, and his cock grew despite having been at what K-2 had thought was its limit. The promise of climax?

"Fuck, Kay, please," he hissed, and rocked his hips. 

K-2 pulled Cassian tighter against him, uncoupled the servos in his leg from the motor controls, and activated them such that his thigh began to vibrate. 

Cassian moaned, long and loud. That was immensely satisfying.

K-2 experimented with frequencies and patterns of vibration until he found a combination that had Cassian writhing on him, mouth hung open, moans and curses and K-2's name flowing freely. 

He'd expected to enjoy Cassian's sexual responses but he'd severely underestimated how much. Thanks to all of the nonsexual ways Cassian stimulated his reward matrix — he comprised, and had for some time, a plurality of K-2's happiness — good_time.exe was weighting Cassian's data far more than any other input. In fact, K-2 became so absorbed in the way Cassian's muscles tensed and the varying sounds in his throat that it was several minutes before he processed the meaning of the words Cassian managed to speak.

"Kay, please, I need to come. Can't reach. Please."

Cassian— Cassian was  _ begging _ . 'Thrill' didn't adequately describe the feeling. 

And yet. K-2 knew one thing that would make it even better. 

K-2 ducked his head to put his vocabulator right next to Cassian's ear. "Who do you need?" 

Cassian's brow knit in confusion even as he arched his spine again. "What?"

"Tell me who you need, Cassian." He kept the vibrations on a perfectly modulated cycle, never letting Cassian's nervous system acclimate to it, never giving enough to induce orgasm, never giving too little to maintain extreme arousal.

"Kriff, Kay," Cassian almost sobbed. 

K-2 continued. Cassian lasted almost five more minutes before he screwed his eyes shut, whimpered, and whispered, "You. I need you, Kay. Please." 

The words filled K-2 up: all the hollows under his plating, the empty slots in his data core, the spaces between circuits. More, it filled his processors and wires and servos, every last component. He felt as if he encompassed more than he had the moment before. 

"Very good, Cassian." The words didn't convey enough; if any words would, he couldn't find them at the moment. In place of eloquence, he ramped up the vibration in his leg to the maximum. "I want to see you come for me." 

Cassian's orgasm ripped through him with a sound like he'd been punched. His body was all tension as he pumped semen onto the floor, and then he went completely boneless in K-2's arms, held up only by the leg under his ass and the binders around his wrists. 

K-2 released the manacles from his chassis and carried Cassian to the bed. He propped him on his wobbly feet for a moment while he stripped the blanket from the cot, spread it on the floor, and then sat down. Cassian wound up sprawled over and between K-2's legs, cheek resting against one thigh. He kept trying to curl his hands into K-2's hip joints.

"That's a terrible idea," K-2 said, "much as I enjoy it conceptually." 

"'S fine," Cassian mumbled.

A surge of exasperated fondness overwhelmed K-2's other processes. 

"It's dangerous." K-2 locked the binders to his pelvic cradle. 

Cassian shivered, fingers curling against K-2's abdominal assembly.

K-2 brushed stray locks of hair back from Cassian's face, delighted when Cassian leaned into the touch. Soon he was massaging Cassian's scalp, fingers sinking into his dark hair, and Cassian practically purred.

K-2, for his part, enjoyed the warmth and silken tangle against his hand, while dividing his visual attention between Cassian's face and hips. The bruises wouldn't show for several hours at the earliest, but two arcs of squared-off indentations were visible. 

"I like you like this," K-2 said, and brought his other hand up to trace Cassian's cheekbones, eyebrows, lips. 

Cassian opened his eyes to meet K-2's optics, the lines around his eyes deepening in amusement. "What, clamped to your chassis?"

"Definitely that," K-2 agreed, "in addition to generally content and wearing my fingerprints." 

Cassian's eyes went half-lidded, and he leaned forward the slight bit he needed to close his mouth around the tip of K-2's finger.

"Oh," K-2 said, vocabulator unstable. "I like that, too." 

Cassian's tongue swirled around K-2's plating, and K-2 hummed, almost a moan. He never would have thought moisture could be pleasant, but the slick heat of Cassian's mouth was obscenely good, and K-2 slid deeper to get more of it.

Cassian made a noise in his chest, molded his body even closer to K-2's, and started to suck. 

"Cassian!" K-2's vocabulator fuzzed with static. 

Cassian hummed, and the sound buzzed into K-2's hand and through his chassis and what felt like all of his processors.

"Yes, yes, Cassian," K-2 said. Babbled, really. He honestly couldn't be bothered to keep track of his vocalizations, not when Cassian was doing  _ that.  _

Cassian pulled back, gave K-2 a scorching look, and then took two of Kay's fingers into his mouth, bobbing his head as he pulled back and forth.

K-2, still moaning, began to move too, sliding his fingertips down Cassian's tongue and back. They found a rhythm together, K-2 figuring out how to keep his knuckles from knocking against Cassian's teeth, Cassian changing the shape of his lips and tongue to accommodate K-2. 

At one point, Cassian swallowed while K-2's fingers were halfway down his throat. The contraction around K-2's fingertips was incredible. "Fuck!"

Cassian's eyes widened, then crinkled. After that, he made it a point to swallow every third thrust. 

Some time after that, K-2 noticed Cassian rolling his hips rhythmically against blankets. He must have gotten hard again. 

"No, I want to do it," K-2 said. Cassian blinked up at him in confusion, but then K-2 released one of the manacles from his pelvic cradle. He rolled Cassian from his stomach onto his side and folded his free hand behind his back, then clamped the manacle to the inside of his own leg. K-2 then hooked the same ankle over Cassian's knee. 

Cassian was immobile; more importantly, his cock jutted into the air, not against the blankets or K-2's leg. He rocked his hips to no avail and whined around K-2's fingers. 

"Don't worry, you don't need to talk this time," K-2 assured him. "Just keep sucking me off. When I'm close to my own climax, I'll bring you to orgasm again." 

Cassian's stomach fluttered as he moaned, and then redoubled his efforts. Every slide of his lips and curl of his tongue sent waves through K-2's reward matrix, bathing him in pleasure. It wasn't long at all before K-2 was near overload.

He slid his free hand down Cassian's chest, ribs, and hip, reveling in the warmth and softness, tracing familiar scars, cataloguing new ways Cassian moved. He was going to keep every moment of this encounter in his databanks. He'd make a dozen copies so he could re-live the moment again and again without corrupting the original. 

His fingertips pushed through the dark curls at the juncture between Cassian's legs, then closed around his cock. 

Cassian moaned, spine arching. 

K-2 explored the new sensations: the heat of Cassian's cock, the weight of it, the soft skin, the oddly enticing moisture at the tip. The desperate noises Cassian made under K-2's hands, the differences induced by different stimuli. 

Cassian rocked his hips the best he could, thrusting shallowly into K-2's hand, even as he sucked and laved at K-2's fingers. The combined sensations in both hands were a pleasure loop of their own, overtaking K-2's core.

K-2 was almost there. He had just enough presence of mind to queue up a command for the manacles before he began jacking Cassian in earnest.

A moment later, Cassian spurted in his hand, moaning loudly, and K-2 let himself fall into the storm of his own release. 

* * *

Cassian was only just coming back to himself when he realized K-2 was lying down and not moving. Alarmed, he sat up and crawled over K-2's chest to look him over.

There was a dim glow in his optics. Low-power mode, the indicator that he was in a sleep or hibernation mode, or rebooting. 

A drive whirred deep in K-2's chest as it spun up. Definitely a reboot. Cassian breathed. 

He realized that his wrists were free. When he thought back, the manacles had opened and disengaged their maglock in the same instant that K-2 overloaded. They were shielded (manacles that fell apart at the first power surge wouldn't be very useful) so it meant Kay had known he was going to overload and set up a dead man's switch. 

He'd made sure Cassian was safe regardless of his own status. Cassian's heart clenched. 

The enormity of what had happened struck Cassian all at once. He scrambled to his feet and made for the 'fresher. Started the sonic.

As he let the vibrations clean away the sweat and spunk, his mind raced.

What had he been  _ thinking _ ? He'd crossed so many lines he shouldn't have: the line between officers and subordinates. The line between friends. The line between people with and those without legal rights. The line between spies and personal relationships. 

He should have said no. He should have stopped Kay from the pat down, or at least the 'inspection.' 

Because now he knew. Kay was wrong; Cassian wasn't aroused by him because K-2 reminded him of armor.

It was the other way around. 

Now Cassian understood his dissatisfaction with all of his organic partners. Understood why he'd been so defensive when Kay had asked about sex. 

How long had Cassian wanted him? 

It didn't matter. It couldn't happen again. He had to forget it had happened in the first place.

He dragged both hands down his face. How in every hell was he supposed to forget the best sex of his life? How was he supposed to forget that Kay somehow knew exactly what Cassian wanted, even before Cassian himself did? How was he supposed to forget the feel of metal at his back, in his mouth, around his cock? 

How was he supposed to forget how  _ right _ it had felt when Kay claimed him? 

He didn't know. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure he could just shove the feelings down and forget about them. It would be like trying to shove a bantha down a drainpipe.

He shook his head. No. He had to do this.

So he breathed slowly until he could keep his face under control. He finished showering. Trimmed his beard.

He put a towel around his hips, and went back out into the main room.

Kay had cleaned up the blanket and the mess Cassian had made on the floor. Cassian wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. 

Kay was standing by the table, slouching even more than usual, hands occasionally twitching in aborted gestures. Cassian pretended to ignore him as he dug clothes out of his duffel.

"Cassian, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Kay's voice was heavy with doubt and worry, and each word stabbed guilt into Cassian's chest. "I never intended—" 

"You didn't do anything wrong," Cassian said. That was true. "I'm not hurt." That was at least medically true, and whatever other hurt he'd accumulated was his own fault. "Is the meeting with the governor still available?"

K-2 didn't look convinced of Cassian's okayness. "Yes." 

Cassian dressed, refusing to change his behavior because Kay was there. 

After he and Kay had finalized the meeting details, the rest of the night went well. Cassian gathered valuable intel and made it back to the safe house in one piece. Kay didn't mention the sex again, though he kept giving Cassian worried looks. Cassian even got a few hours of good sleep.

In the morning, Cassian kept himself on an even keel through a ration bar, caf, and Kay's report of the night's signal traffic. He cleaned his teeth.

He stripped with his back to Kay, and went for his usual morning shower. 

In the 'fresher, he stopped dead at the sight of his reflection.

Overnight, Kay's handiwork had bloomed into visibility. A pair of perfectly symmetrical arcs curled around Cassian's hips, five shadows in each, every shadow with two defined corners at the leading edge. Unmistakably fingerprints. Unmistakably synthetic. 

Cassian's jaw creaked with how hard he was clenching it. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and deliberately relaxed it.

He finished his morning routine without looking at himself again.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Din didn't take anyone to bed without a thorough vetting ever again. Sorry, buddy.
> 
> Thank you [theLoyalRoyalGuard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLoyalRoyalGuard) for wanting handcuffs to be involved. I had so much fun with these!


End file.
